Love of a Different Kind
by Acyd Tears
Summary: She loved him with all that was in her, but he was destined to die. No one could understand her, she was too 'young' to know what love really was. How does someone live with the fact that the man she loves will never love her?
1. Diary of a Goddess

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not and never will own Troy. The only character I do own is Adara. And sort of Apollo, but I didn't make him up....I just made up his personality and stuff. I didn't create him though.

**Author's Note: **_This is just the first chapter, it will go on, don't worry. I don't expect you to love it, after all it's just something that popped into my head while I was watching _Troy _in English class. Please, be open to new ideas if you're going to read this, if not, go away. This has mature language and may, at a later time, have mature content. Therefore the rating is subject to change at any given time. Please read and review, any review is welcome. I welcome criticism, I promise not to throw a fit about it, after all; I'm not perfect and there's always room to grow. But please, the one kind of review I will not allow is one bashing the plot line, if you don't like the idea of someone else loving and losing Achilles, then get lost. Bye Bye. :) Other than that, have fun and I'll let you read now. If you're still here, that is._

I watch him every night and every day. When I close my eyes at night now, I do not expect the dreamless sleep that all of my kind get, I expect to see him. And I do, every single night. I see his beautiful blonde locks, his beautiful green eyes, and every other aspect of him. I dream of him holding me, I dream of him dancing with me, and sometimes I have sleep visions of him. This is when my dreams take me to the real love of my life, and I get to watch him sleep even as I do the same. My heart hurts for knowing that my love for him is forbidden, is cursed by my mother and father.

I pace this way and that, dragging a hand through my long black hair. Why does the day always take so long? I long for the solitude of the night, when I can go to him. When he finally falls asleep and I can watch him without him knowing my presence. I close my eyes and find the time in my head. 6:03 p.m. The day is almost over, but I know that he won't fall into a deep enough sleep until at least midnight or one in the morning. He will have one of those sluts with him until then. I close my eyes again and try to control myself, my body shaking with rage at the very idea of another woman moving underneath him.

Time passes. It is different for me than it is for a mortal woman to wait for the night to come, I can blink my eyes and make the time pass so quickly, you'd think I could time travel. That isn't true, I don't think anyways, I can't go back at least. I do this now, wanting it to be twelve thirty already so I can go to him and know that he is asleep. And then it is half past midnight, just like that, eight and a half hours went by with relatively nothing happening. I make sure that my father isn't up and about, though I know he isn't, he's too…occupied to be up around now.

I leave from my balcony on my side of the…I don't know what the name of our 'home' is the mortal tongue. Suffice it to say, it is bigger and better than the castles and palaces of your old kings. Though of course it is not the best in my world. I go through the doorway and onto the marble balcony, ready to fly away and go find my love. Soon I am beside him, and I see his beautiful face framed by his lovely blonde locks. I close my eyes once more, imagining that it is me that lays beside him right now, rather than this common brunette, imagining that it was me that he had made love to.

I feel pain, again. I fall to my knees and gasp in air, wishing that I hadn't given in to this new way of life. I am still what I was, I will always be like that, but now I feels as the mortals do. And pain attacks me now, pain in my throat and chest and a stinging at my eyes. I know what it is, I feel it whenever I see him with a woman and punish myself by wishing it was me. I know it will never be me, he could never love me, not even in the simple way he 'loves' these women. A tear slides out of my emerald eyes, and I gasp trying to wipe it aside before it could touch the dirt of the tent I am in. But no, I am too late, and the crystalline drop touches the soft dirt.

"Damn it, no!" I curse softly under my breath, not caring that my love could wake at any moment and realize that one of my kind is kneeling in his modest tent. My hands rush to the ground where the droplet fell, whispering words of denial and negativity, wishing that what was happening wouldn't. But I can feel it underneath my hands, though I desperately try to stop it, as it ignores my quick wishes. A small depression forms underneath my hands, filling in with water as soft and sweet as the tear that had fallen from my eyes. I move my hands, hoping this is all that will happen, but what I expected to see is there. My signature stone, a black rose carved out of black opal lays in the middle. "No…No, no, no!" I hiss, shaking my head. He can't know I was here, least of all that I cried on his ground. He will think that one of us hates him, that it is an ill omen. I reach into the pool and wrap my small hand around the black rose and tug at it, wanting to pull it out and run away.

What do you think happened? It stayed, that's what happened. I was not meant to pull it out, I don't know if anyone was. I stand up and cross to the bed where he lies, caress his face, and press a soft kiss to each of his eyelids. I do this every night before I leave him, this time I do it sooner than usual though, not able to stay here with my signature mark in his ground. I will come back in a few hours, invisible of course, to watch and see how he reacts to it.

I am home and I fall into my dove feathered bed and sob against it, knowing that nothing will come of my tears in this realm. I have been a fool to indulge myself by watching a man who does not even live in the country that my father gave me for my birthday. You see, my love lives across the ocean from me, for my father built his home over one of the countries that worships him. It was his country, but my past birthday of nineteen he gave me the country, and he intends to introduce me to the civilians of it on my next birthday, he wants me to get used to it before. It would have been acceptable were I to have a little bit of a…what do you call it? A crush on one of the princes or some well known man of my new country, my father would have laughed and talked me threw it. But I love a man who lives far away from me, and his country will soon be going to war with mine. I know this already, don't ask how.

Time passes and I fall into a kind of 'sleep' of sorts. It is now five in the morning. I pull myself into the folds of invisibility and leave again, to see my love. He stirs in his bed and begins to wake up, I hold my breath and wish he would just go back to sleep. I wait and watch, hoping that he will go back to sleep, forget about the morning.

And then he stands up.


	2. The State of Unawareness

**DISCLAIMER:** I am not rich, I am not well known, I aint even got more'n one fifty in the bank. Got it? I don't own Troy. I only own Adara and the plot line.

**Author's Note:** _Alright. Second chapter! Yay. Yes, I do write fast. Sometimes. I just have a lot of pent up muse that's spilling into this. And to avoid confusion, I'll go ahead and tell you. The chapter's in first person are obviously from Adara's p.o.v., but not every chapter will be like that. Maybe every other one, but at least every few. So, without further ado, I introduce to you: Chapter 2._

Muscles extended as the virile warrior yawned and stretched whilst still in his bed. He turned his head and looked at the woman who had warmed his bed the previous night. She was beautiful, with milky skin and short brown hair that fell around her face, the ends of it curling at her chin. She was thin, though her breasts and butt were…more than moderate. Over all, she had a perfect physique, and yet, he felt nothing when he looked at her. The man rolled his eyes and stood up, groaning and closing his eyes for a moment. He did not want to be up, he wanted to go back to his bed and get the woman to make him feel something, even lust, and make him react. He wanted to feel it, wanted to react, wanted to be nothing of what he really was and all of what she imagined him to be.

_Impossible, Achilles. You know better. Now get your clothes on and get busy._ He scolded himself and laughed softly, shaking his head. Achilles dressed himself and was about to walk out and find his friend, so he could find out when he would be leaving for Greece and his real home, a much better place than the tent he lived in for the moment. He was about to do all this, when he almost fell in a…puddle? "What the fuck." He said, shaking his head and looking down at it, which really woke him up. He was looking at a small 'hole' in the ground filled with water and holding a black stone rose in the middle. He'd never seen a thing like it before, but he knew that it hadn't been there when he'd gone to sleep.

Achilles bent down and slowly put his hand into the water, the water itself had a texture very different from that of rain water or ocean water…or drinking water. He couldn't figure it out, it was _soft._ "By the Gods…" He muttered, getting up and jogging out of his tent, in search of the priest that traveled with them when they went on a battle run. Achilles burst into the tent of the priest, the man was still asleep, damn him. "Father!" He barked, using the respectful term for the priest, the man wasn't his father. "I believe one of the Gods was here last night, I need you to explain it." He said, which was a bit of an odd question for him. Achilles didn't generally ask for an interpretation when it was a sign from the Gods, because he usually spoke face to face with them. But this time it was different, he didn't recognize this as one of the signature signs of any of the Gods he knew and it wasn't a general or well known sign. So he came to the priest.

"Well, well. Achilles needs my help with the Gods? Why not just ask your mother? Alright, alright, calm down," The priest cringed and tried to calm Achilles down when he saw how angrily he reacted to what he'd said about the man's mother. "Give me a moment and I'll be there." Achilles nodded and walked back to his tent, kneeling in front of the puddle. He stared at the black rose, wondering where on earth the thing could have come from. It was obviously supernatural, there was no way that could have formed over night. Finally, the priest came to his tent, dressed in his regular attire. "What is this, Achilles? I do not recognize this sign, it is not of our major gods or goddesses. Call your mother here, if she will come. She might understand this." And with that, the priest left, giving Achilles no answers to his question.

Achilles sat on the ground, glaring at the little pool in front of him. What did it mean? Was a god angry at him, or blessing him? He didn't know, he didn't understand, and he doubted that he would. And it wasn't like he really could just call his mother to him, she was free of ever having to listen to a man. She hadn't even really listened to his father. He walked out of the tent again and to the water line of the beach where the camp was, letting the water lap against his feet. "Mother…" He whispered, hoping she would listen and come to him. He left the water then and went back to his tent where he glared once more at the pool and shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair. "The hell am I supposed to do with this?" He muttered, huffing out a breath.

"Achilles? What do you want?" The warrior spun around to see his mother in the doorway, looking at him with her loving eyes. Achilles nodded towards the little pool and stone in the ground and she went to it immediately. He watched as she knelt in front of it and touched the little black stone in the center of the pool. "Interesting. So _she's_ visited you. This is a new goddess's signature mark, it happens when the tears of a god or goddess hits mortal ground. A goddess was here last night, and she cried right here. Interpret it as you like." His mother told him what he'd wanted to know, more or less. He still didn't know what it meant, though, or who had been there.

"Wait, mother. Who is she?" He knew she wouldn't tell him why she had cried, or what her crying meant for him. But at least she'd tell him who it was who had cried watching him, right? Wrong. His mother shook her head and smiled, walking out of the tent, not telling him anything. Frustrated by this, Achilles grabbed the nearest thing beside him, in this case being a dish of water, and threw it as hard as he could. It broke against the ground, causing water to splash everywhere. Everywhere, that is, except the pool with the flower rock. Droplets of water had sped towards it, but they'd never touched the surface and disturbed the water or rock. "What the hell…" He muttered as he turned towards his bed and grimaced. The girl he'd been with last night had slept through everything, dumb woman was deaf as hell when she slept.

Achilles walked out of the tent to go practice and work off some of the anger he felt from not understanding anything that was going on. Why in the world would a young goddess come to his tent and cry in front of him. It didn't make sense.

---

Thetis left the mortal world as soon as she stepped out of her sons tent, quickly headed for the palace where Adara resided with her father. She stepped onto the threshold of the palace and called for Adara. The young goddess was there in but a few seconds, wincing and shrinking back into her home when she saw who was on her doorstep. "Thetis…C-c…Um. Come inside." She stuttered, backing up and opening the door wide. Thetis offered a smile and walked in, her gait graceful and unmarred.

"You visited my son last night. You cried watching him. Why?" Her words held the tone of a mother who wanted to know what was going on, a wise woman that had no answer for once and was demanding information, not just another goddess asking one about her business.

"My purposes for being somewhere is my own business." Adara managed to sound confident in her words for once, not cowering from the older and more mature goddess. "Why do you want to know?" She asked, lifting her chin up and wishing her father was there to help her.

"I wouldn't want to know, if you hadn't left something behind you. Something a lot like this." Thetis pulled her hands up and in them was a small replica of the pool and flower in her hands.

Adara grimaced before she managed to pull herself together. "I-" She barely managed to get that out before the woman interrupted her. "You alerted him to your existence, Adara. Now he doesn't know what to think. He called me to him, all the way from Greece, to tell him what it meant. For all he knows, it could mean that you despise him and plan to smite him. He doesn't know how to interpret these signs. You'd better prepare from a visit from my son, he'll want me to bring him to you when he returns to Greece." Thetis shot Adara one last knowing look and then left, creating a bit of a whirlwind behind her.

Adara collapsed against the wall beside her, breathing deeply. Too close, that had been much too close for her liking. She touched a hand to her chest, trying to calm down. Thetis had caused her to panic when she'd arrived and then her questions…Dear lord, that had been far too close. Thetis probably knew why she'd been there, though, and was just torturing her with those questions. Adara hoped not, though, because that would mean that she'd tell Achilles, and Adara wasn't sure she could handle that. After all, Adara was nothing like the girls that that man entertained himself with. They were blondes, brunettes, and red heads. They were all thin or curvy, and they were all older than Adara. A tear slid down the young goddess's cheek as she slid down the wall and crumpled into a ball, choked sobs escaping her lips. What was so wrong with her, so different from the other girls, that made it so she knew without a doubt that he would never love her?

And with that, tears running down her face, Adara fell unconscious.


End file.
